


Before and After

by fairytalehearts



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalehearts/pseuds/fairytalehearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But the statistics are based on numbers and not the woman that he chose to share his life with. He knows their relationship is more than quantifiable numbers. (Spoilers for 5x06/07)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before and After

**Author's Note:**

> It's not important how they beat the Observers. What happens before and after.  
> (A Peter Stays an Observer Story)

Peter wants to laugh but he can’t. He remembers everything, the dress Olivia wore to their wedding, the first time Etta said “Daddy”. He just can’t remember how to feel those emotions that once meant so much to him.  He wants to, he definitely wants to, but things like that were fading from him. Looking at Olivia now is almost painful, he sees her stepfather. He sees Rachel. He sees the way she looks at him with adoration in her eyes- and how she looks at him now.  Peter Bishop is leaving him, and his brain that he once relied on was- something else. He liked to be able to predict Olivia’s reactions when it was his intuition, not when there was quantifiable data that backed it up.

 He doesn’t meant to slip out of his timeline, he needs to learn the plan. He needs to remember so he can tell himself in the past. But grief, grief is something he still has. Time travel is tricky, there were too many universes to count, adding the time difference and wherever he was now, Etta is watched by September. She was ten years, twenty weeks and five days old. If his plan goes accordingly, Peter and Olivia Bishop will have three children, two girls, one boy and Etta will be a dancer or an artist.

He wants that so desperately he almost uses his tear ducts.

September was sitting in the back of an SUV that belongs to Olivia. She had picked Etta up from school and then gotten called away. Since September was the only Observer they had ever known, he was allowed to stay. Besides September was crucial to existence- killing him wouldn’t do him any good. September liked it here, and Peter liked having someone to watch the children at all times. He liked that too.

“You should not be here, Peter.”

“Daddy can be here if he wants, September.” Etta corrects their bald-headed friend.  Reading her mind is almost too easy; he doubts his Etta would have her guard down like this.  She knows that he’s not her father. Her father is on the third floor of the warehouse with their mother.

“I know.” He responds quietly, but he is still part human and he still wants to see his daughter.

“Henrietta is fine. Charlie and Audrey are in the nursery at Fringe Division and you are on the third floor, about to cut your foot open on a nail. Olivia is upset.”

Peter is wincing, but telling Olivia he will be fine. His tetanus is up-to-date and the odds of him dying as a result of this event are: .0000001 to 1. “Tell me about your dance recital.” This should not be important. This should not matter.

“Well, I didn’t want to be a kangaroo, so I chose to be an elephant. I was the only elephant and my teacher said I was resplendent and graceful. Grandpa helped me make a trunk that moved and Daddy helped me make paper mache ears.”

Peter’s being hobbled into an ambulance and he’s protesting all the way, but Olivia finally gets him to go. She sees him sitting in the back of their car and does a double-take, but by then he’s long gone.

He slips back into his own time, where Olivia is crying in her sleep again.

He draws a picture of their daughter, dancing in their old living room with elephant ears.  He knows that there’s a 41.876% chance that she will take offense to the drawing. But the statistics are based on numbers and not the woman that he chose to share his life with. He knows their relationship is more than quantifiable numbers.

He might not feel those emotions anymore, but he sees the value in pretending. Crawling into bed next to her, he puts his arm over her side and breathes next to her neck. Shutting his eyes, he lets his brain crunch numbers in sleep mode and hopes Walter figures out the plan soon.

**

They win.

They don’t get all of them, but he has all the time in the world to hunt them all down.

Olivia wants him to take the tech out of his head. That will kill him, he’s sure of it. She wants them to be together and alive and happy. He understands why she would want that.

He kisses her cheek before disappearing.

**

Audrey is sick.

He doesn’t know why or how but he knows she’s sick.  She’s not even his daughter, his daughter died over twenty years ago. He keeps a picture of her, pinned to the inside of his jacket in case he forgets. Being the only one of his kind, he figures he can make his own rules when it comes to sentimentality. The safety pin also holds his wedding ring, not that it matters, a ring is a piece of metal that people assign meaning to. It reminded him that if he were to ever die, he wanted to be buried next to Olivia. She would appreciate that.

Audrey Marilyn Bishop is not his daughter, but for some reason he can’t help thinking that she is sick and needs his help. It bothers him, the annoying feeling of- obligation. He had always wanted a life free from obligation and now that it was weaseling it’s way back in- it was not pleasant. So he picks up his suitcase and makes his apologies to Dr. Tesla and gently navigates the fabric of space-time to where a purple-haired girl is hovering over the body.

“It’s not working, Daddy. She just keeps getting worse.”

“I’m not your father.”

She turns around quickly, and instead of the purple haired girl with tattoos, it’s his Etta. Asking for his help, eyes wide with fear and he suddenly feels sick. This girl doesn’t know him, or how he got this way- it must be a bit of a shock for her as well.

He kept his hair and he probably resembles an old man, but the way she looks at him makes him feel ill. He doesn’t need to scan her to know that she’s upset; the tears running down her face are from frustration, not despair. Bishop’s should never despair; there was always a solution to every problem.

Etta’s hair had been dyed purple, she was an art student and was home for Christmas because she is the type of girl who loves coming back for Christmas. She and Olivia go on yoga retreats and they talk for hours. In this time, in this place, they are very close.

The room is bright, yellow walls, white trim. Etta painted a mural on the west wall of a sunflower fairy sitting in a sunflower field in amazing detail, which was a piece she still used in her portfolio. Information about the room that was once his office comes to him so easily. it's intriguing. . Here, Audrey was a surprise and Peter was more than happy to have a family full of girls. That probably wasn't relevant but he figured having a good perspective would help aid the girl that might have been his daughter. Etta is 19 and Audrey is 9 ‘They are not close’ is the only thing Etta is thinking over and over and normally she has the ability to heal things and-

“It’s not working, Daddy.” He repeats, gently transporting himself past her and to the tiny girl who is dying. “I can’t heal the dead.” He speaks her own thoughts and that scares her so he does his best to not repeat her thoughts aloud.

Gently picking up the girl, he touches her face. He does not know why, but he knows that is what her father would do, and that it comforts her even if she is dying. What he should do is take the child as soon as possible, but he knows that Etta will worry if he does not explain.

“I will bring her back. I promise, Kiddo.”

He disappears and his eyes burn and cloud, he had not blinked or shed tears for quite some time and it was interfering with his neural interface. He means to go to 1985 so Walter could fix her, but he ends up in 2015.

It’s a glitch, going back in time to when Etta was a baby and happy. He did not intend to- his thoughts and feelings are getting muddled and in the confusion he crashes into a lab table. He has never crashed.

Gently protecting Audrey Marilyn, he walks into the lab where Walter was eating red vines and puts her down on the table. “Fix. Her.”

He crashes again, this time to the floor and he’s sure he’s not going to get up for some time.

**

When he wakes, his interface isn’t working. He sees things reflecting light but no patterns, no data-

Thankfully he still has his abilities, and he slips out of the restraints, and moves to stand where Etta was holding Audrey Marilyn’s hand. Peter and Olivia are more than confused, but Walter has fixed her, and she is breathing normally and happily.

“I don’t have a sister.” Etta says. She is thinking about braiding hair, and how someone will need to redo Audrey’s hair before too long. Audrey’s sister had never braided her hair, never done anything overly sisterly. He hopes this acts as a wakeup call for her. That their time together is precious. He wants to tell Ella this but he doesn't want to upset the three year old. This Audrey would never be her sister, he shouldn't worry for their non-existent relationship. 

“Not yet.” He replies instead.

Peter has a gun pointed at the back of his head, and part of him wishes he would pull the trigger. That would be preferable to an interrogation. He can’t explain to them what happened, or why he is this way now. It would destroy them and he wanted them to hope and dream and be happy.

“Walter called and said I was an Observer.”  He reads his own mind so easily. Peter is offended at his audacity, repeating his private thoughts aloud. Part of him likes getting one up on the Peter who had everything. “You may call me October. I must return Audrey Marilyn before her father tears a hole in space-time to get her back.”

He gently crosses back to the yellow bedroom with white trim, where Peter is asleep in his reading chair that he dragged in from the office. Olivia was pacing in the living room, hands on her hips, Etta watching her from the couch. This Peter trusts him, he appreciates that. He sets Audrey in his lap, and she clings to him in her sleep. They will live happy long lives, he was sure.

 Satisfied, he means to go back to Tesla. But it doesn’t work. He’s five feet away from Olivia, his Olivia. She was waiting for him. His interface was still not working, so instead of reading her body temperature, he sees her face in the sunlight. Olivia thrives in the sun, summers in the garden behind their house, surrounded by white tulips. He feels sick again and maybe he really is dying.

“Hi.” She whispers, motioning for him to sit on the bench next to her. She’s at a park, where children are playing. No Observers. She had her hand in multiple rehabilitation projects, child adoption, setting up Harvard, food programs. If they still had presidents, he’s sure she’d win. In fact, the odds of her wining an election were-

He had no number in his head. Normally, he thought of a scenario in his head and then he could predict the certainty of that outcome.  Instead he’s just ‘sure’ and something terrible has happened, his brain is failing him. There was no one he could ask for help about his implant, all of the Observers were dead and if he wasn't an Observer anymore what was he?

He sits on the bench next to her and she takes his hand. Olivia’s natural body temperature was 98.9 degrees. He knew this from experience, not from fact. Currently, his body temperature was much cooler and the contrast between the two felt- nice. Things quit feeling nice for him a long time ago.

The Observer Boy, the one they saved, toddles over and smiles at the two of them. He had been watching them since he appeared but only decided to make his presence known when they were both watching.  Olivia named him Charlie. They live in her old apartment and she makes him spicy quiche for breakfast and he makes her feel not so lonely.

“Hello.”

Charlie awkwardly waves and Peter makes a mental note to help the poor kid out.

“Hello.” He replies. Charlie is trying to be normal, trying to be human. But he is not and he never will be. They both know it, but he loves Olivia like a child would love a mother and Olivia desperately needs that in her life. Especially since he’d been gone for the better part of a year. Charlie has learned that by calling her ‘Momma’ she will cry, so he refrains. The kid is smarter than he lets on.

“Olivia is going to show me how to make pancakes today. She promised.”

It was ambitious to promise the kid pancakes, they’d need flour and that was at least a gallon of gas plus some chestnuts from Etta’s secret stash. “Liv, you can’t be promising the kid the impossible.”

He doesn't know why he’s crying, but Olivia is smiling brightly at him so it can't be too horrible. Olivia realizes something he doesn’t and he can’t scan her thoughts for the answer. Which oddly doesn’t bother him. The sick feeling leaves him as his tears start to dry and maybe it wasn't a glitch afterall. Maybe this was meant to happen.

“He told me today was the day you were coming home and if he could make that happen, I told him we can make pancakes every day for the rest of forever.”

The back of his head is sore, but he feels a hundred pounds lighter.

“Tell me the odds of us getting flour today Peter.” She whispers, testing him. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He has no numbers, no weather scans, no idea where the closest wheat field is. He has no idea for the first time in forever and the silence in his mind is liberating. He feels happy. Loved, “I have no idea, but we’re gonna get some and get the kid some mango habanero syrup to go with it.”

Olivia’s lower lip quivers but she kisses him before she starts crying.

"Don't cry, Momma." Charlie grabs onto her leg, and Peter does his best to comfort the two of them. 

He could barely remember why they were crying but they had pancakes to make. "I'm sure Walter kept some flour in the lab. I don't know why we didn't think of this sooner, Liv. Depriving the poor kid of pancakes. What kind of parents are we?"

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'll notice in the beginning Peter uses facts and then transitions to inherently knowing things. I like to think that love really is enough.
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own Fringe and make no profit from this work of fiction.


End file.
